It Was Inevitable
by Delgodess
Summary: It was inevitable, given her track record. She would have to go there. Street punks, Yakuza, and multi-billion dollar corporate Heirs: all of them, delinquents. She'd done the deed; fixed the jewel, made the wish, saved the day. Was this really what she had to look forward to? High school?
1. Chapter 1

**It Was Inevitable**

 **Summary:** It was inevitable, given her track record. She would have to go _there_. Street punks, Yakuza, and multi-billion dollar corporate Heirs: all of them, delinquents. She'd done the deed; fixed the jewel, made the wish, saved the day. Was _this_ really what she had to look forward to? _High school?_

* * *

 _ **No Beta.**_

* * *

Two years. That's how long it would take to be free of this place.

The first time Higurashi Kagome saw Ishiyama High, she was struck speechless. The school was so beyond what she was expecting, so much worse than anything she'd ever hoped for herself. She'd wanted to cry tears of frustration, fury and despair battling across her tanned features.

This was her reward. Two years of back-breaking travel, of terror and beauty, of friendships made and lost. Blood and sweat and tears, fighting and running and childlike awe; of innocence lost in the harsh light of reality's many faces; all of it, for _this_.

It was like a slap to the face.

Because even though the Feudal Era had been more real to her than anything else, _this_ was the place she always returned home to. _This_ was the _real_ face of reality.

The well was closed, her friends: gone. It was time to fess up, time to face the consequences of her inaction. So she buckled down, straightened up, and took the first steps forward into a life she'd never wanted for herself. But it was hers, and like with all things, Kagome would make the best of it.

Three weeks into the school year found the former Shikon no Tama miko sequestered in the corner of one little used classroom, desk set, homework out. She had cram school in forty minutes and couldn't be distracted by the ruffians outside.

She could hear shouts and slams from the hallway as flesh hit flesh, lockers bent and people yelped in pain. She was unmoved; not uncaring, but simply so used to the daily occurrence that it didn't even faze her. It had nothing on Inuyasha.

Two years ago she would have reacted to the racket outside. Even six months ago, she would have charged out, vicious, snapping words flying from her mouth, fist upraised.

Now, she was just tired.

The classroom wall shattered just as she put her pencil down, a broken, bleeding form groaning beneath the surprisingly undamaged windows opposite the idiot's point of entry. The door to the room slammed open from someone's ruthless kick, and Kagome started placing her books in her blue backpack, absently wondering why the man hadn't just walked through the hole instead of around it. She shrugged and stood, quietly swinging her bag over a shoulder. It wasn't her problem.

Her eyes traced a route through the debris, ignoring the entrance of a prowling third-year and the cronies that piled in behind him. They weren't harmless, per say, but she'd seen worse. These guys meant nothing to her.

One of them thought otherwise.

"Hey boss! What's that chick doing here?"

Kagome paused in her trek through the rubble, stopping at the atrocious sight before her. The Hawaiian shirt was unmistakable, the necklace, the green sunglasses; she didn't even want to look at his hair. It was Tatsuya Himekawa, a Tohoshinki boss and one of the top four on her **PEOPLE TO AVOID** list. And it was a _long_ list. She nearly sighed when his eyes cut over to her, but ended up looping the other bag strap over her opposite shoulder instead. It paid to be ready and prepping to run never hurt.

She nodded in his direction, making to move past the rowdy crowd with a wave of her hand. Hoping they would just ignore her was her best bet; it'd happened before. But then she just _had_ to open her big fat mouth.

"Don't mind me. Do continue."

It was supposed to dismiss her presence, make her small and uninteresting. That it did the opposite was, in fact, quite a surprise to her, and the hand wrapped around her wrist was anything but gentle. Her blue eyes widened as she was spun around, a large palm cupping her chin. Dark eyes stared into hers, brow furrowed.

"You're one of Aoi's girls, aren't you?"

Kagome pursed her lips. The Red Tail leader had claimed the miko on her first day, bluntly offering protection and a place within the all-girls gang. The only thing that stopped her from declining was the sharp look in the second-years' eyes, the faint whiff of spiritual power humming through the air. _"We've gotta stick together in a place like this."_ There was a double meaning there, and Kagome had silently nodded her acceptance. She wasn't an active part of the gang, but having the support of the other members was the closest thing to having a pack this side of the well. She opened her mouth questioningly.

"Yes…?" She raised an eyebrow, pushing the hand from her face. The one on her wrist tightened when she tried to pull away.

"This is my turf. Why are you here?"

She thumbed over her shoulder, at the desk in the back of the classroom. The pained moan from the floor was ignored, the gang's rumbling, silent.

"Studying."

He eyed it, and then her, head cocked. Kagome tried to focus on his face rather than the looming hair appendage. She didn't _quite_ succeed. After a long and increasingly awkward moment, he spoke.

"How much?"

"What?" The girls nose wrinkled, baffled.

The punk shrugged. "I'd like to buy you. How much?"

"I-" She couldn't even process it. Did he mean… Her jaw dropped, incredulous. She shifted, uncomfortable with their proximity to each other. Her free hand itched to slap, but this wasn't Miroku. She barely kept the snarl from her face, stressing each word.

"I'm _really_ not that kind of girl."

"Huh." Himekawa features twisted musingly with the sound as he ran his eyes coolly over her, assessing. His chin jutted out in a small movement.

"Alright."

He dropped her stinging wrist, turning away with a wave and tucked his other hand carelessly into a pocket.

"Have at her boys."

There was a flurry of movement, punches thrown, kicks struck, and gleeful, lecherous exclamations yelled. Then there was silence, angry and confused.

"Where'd she go?"

"You see her?"

But Kagome was already three steps off campus, hurrying towards her next destination. Twenty minutes till cram class; could she make it?


	2. Chapter 2

**No Beta.**

* * *

The boy at the bus stop was not so much a boy as he was a man, with strong, broad shoulders and thick, coiled muscles. He sat, hunched over a textbook, mechanical pencil dwarfed in his hand, his normally harsh features creased in concentration.

Some days, he wore the dark uniform of a high school student; most days, he wore a white wife-beater stained with sweat, long slacks replaced with faded jeans. Always, he had the book out, carefully tacking down answers on the same bench, at the same bus stop, everyday, without fail.

Minutes pass slowly as he waits, the blistering sun hot against the black uniform, even with the jacket open and the collar unbuttoned. He bites his lip, an odd thing; though the tip of his writing utensil shows equal amounts of abuse, light with crescent lines. Spiked red hair falls over black eyes as he leans closer, a frustrated growl leaving his throat.

He blinks when the bus arrives with its usual hiss and rattle, straightening his spine with an audible crack. A sigh leaves him as his book snaps shut, one large hand reaching to grab the duffle at his feet before he stands. He is tall, and would tower over most men, but his expression is mild for one so fierce-looking, despite the scar that runs past the edge of his right eyebrow and ends somewhere near his ear.

The bus door opens and he is greeted with an air of familiarity, the old driver smiling at the hardworking young man. He nods, swiping his pass, and steps onto the first stair.

"WAIT! Hold the bus!"

He looks up at the feminine gasp, leaning out of the vehicle with furrowed brows. A girl is running down the sidewalk, knee-length skirt flush against her thighs as she moves, blue backpack bouncing painfully against her back. Her blouse and matching cardigan are disheveled from her run, the barest hint of cleavage peaking out, in spite of the modest attire.

The boy puts one foot back on the sidewalk, expression clearing to its usual blank scowl.

The girl skids to a halt, panting, and pushes down the fly-a-ways that have come loose from her simple braid, black hair refusing to settle, even as she swings her bag around and fumbles within for her bus pass.

When she looks up, she graces the boy with a blinding smile, undeterred by his appearance or his frown.

"Thanks!" She chirps, happy and breathless. He nods, forcing back a swallow and steps completely into the bus, making his way to the back where he can finish his homework in peace.

He is startled when the girl flops into the seat right in front of him, twisting on her knees to face him. He looks up from the paper when she doesn't turn away, eyebrow raised.

There is a hand in his face, a petite thing with strange calluses stark against soft skin.

"Higurashi Kagome." She states with a smile, small in comparison to the other he was given.

The offer of her hand it slightly jarring, as a simple bow would do, but something about her firm grip sends his blood pumping, tapping that part of him that always chomps at the bit, lusting for a fight. His grip firms in response.

"Hidetora Tōjō."

Surprise flashes momentarily across her features, smile dropping into a small frown. Then she's smiling again, and he nearly sighs in relief, but stops himself at the strange reaction.

"Nice to meet you."

The large boy hums in agreement, turning back to his work even as his frown deepens. There's something odd about her, something he can't quite place. It's nothing bad, but it bothers him enough that he can't concentrate with her looking, head resting on her arms over the top of the seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her bite her lip till it's pink and swollen, conflicted over something he can't name. He rolls his eyes. _Women_.

"You go to Ishiyama, right?"

He glances up, annoyed, but nods anyway.

"Me too."

His dark eyes flit over her. Huh. He recognizes the uniform, but he doesn't know her. Transfer maybe? Was she strong? She sighs bitterly, and he shrugs as they fall into silence.

He's growing more and more frustrated with the problem he is currently working on, so much so that when she speaks again, he starts. He'd forgotten she was there, _watching_. Shouldn't he be bothered by her behavior? The bus swishes and creaks, bumping down the road. It's oddly peaceful, sitting over a frustrating set of mathematic equations, a strange girl staring at him with sad eyes. He… he did _not_ just think that.

"What?" He says, completely missing her question.

She blushes, and isn't that weird directed at him. He feels heat rise unwilling to his cheeks.

"I said that I've seen you a bunch of times at the bus stop, working on that." She nods towards his textbook, head still placed lazily on her arms. But she bites her lip again. He sighs, straightening as he waits. Where did all this patience come from?

"Do you want help?" She blurts, then stops, taking a deep breath to start again. "I mean- do you want to study together? I can't really study at school anymore because...something happened, and I figure if we're both gonna be there anyway then we might as well suffer…together?" She ends on a sheepishly high note, scratching the back of her neck and looking anywhere but at him.

The boys' head tilts thoughtfully and, stunned, he says the first thing that comes to mind.

"I work."

"Oh." The girl deflates.

Damn. When did he become such a pussy? He is _not_ this awkward. She's just a pretty girl. He clears his throat, coughing.

"But…yeah. I'd like that."

She immediately grins, white teeth flashing. "Ok! Great…um."

The girl, _Kagome_ , pauses, reaching down out of his sight to pick something up as the bus begins to slow. Her words come fast now, hurried.

"I've got, like, two hours after school until I need to be at cram class, so we can work for about an hour, hour and a half tops, before I have to go." She scribbles something on a piece of paper, before handing it over. "Here's my number if you gotta work. That way I won't be waiting forever for you." She gestures, pulling on the backpack he hadn't even notice her take off. "Um, this is my stop."

She pauses again, hopeful blue eyes staring at him like they have for the entirety of this little trip.

"See you tomorrow? At the bench?"

Tōjō is a little overwhelmed.

"Yeah." He answers, blinking dimly at the paper in his hands.

Then she's gone. The interior of the bus does _not_ seem to darken. And he is _not_ looking forward to tomorrow. He is a _man_. He does _not_ get fluttery feelings in his stomach.

But damn.

In his mind's eye, she _glows_.


	3. Chapter 3

**No Beta.**

* * *

The next day, there is a bruise on her wrist in the shape of fingerprints.

It makes her mother furious.

"I told you to be careful, dear."

Her mother's hands are gentle as she wraps the ice, the woman's usual serene expression clouded at the sight of her daughter's swollen flesh. Kagome shrugs over her bowl of seasoned fish, chewing the leftovers for breakfast.

"I know, Mama, but this school… remember when I said it was crazy?"

Ms. Higurashi scoffs. "I thought you were exaggerating."

"Nope." Kagome shrugs again and takes another bite. Her cell phone beeps a happy little tune and she swipes it to stop the alarm. It's time to go.

"We can pull you out; do homeschooling." Her mother insists, brown eyes serious as she pulls the ice away. She walks around the counter to the fridge, dumping the ice in the sink before pulling out a premade bento wrapped in red cloth. A scrap of fire rat weave, torn but serviceable enough to never get rid of. "I hear they're more lenient in the Americas too, so-"

Kagome pauses in slipping on her shoes; made for running long distances but cleverly styled to look otherwise. She exhales, exasperated "Mama, we've talked about this."

The older woman is wringing her hands in a rag acquired from one of her aprons' many pockets, pacing the foyer. "I worry, Kagome. After everything that's happened and now this- this _school_ -"

Small hands rest over worn ones, stopping the fidgeting. They are slender and deceptively fragile, the bruise stark against smooth skin. Kagomes' smile is tender and breathtaking.

"I can handle it."

Ms. Higurashi's gaze softens and she links their identical hands, old against new. She speaks gently, supportive, a pillar of faith. "I know, love, and I believe you." Then her features tighten, turning fierce. "It's just that I can't _stand_ seeing you hurt."

Kagome lifts her abused arm between them and the air _hums_ , heavy with power. The mark had been fading quickly on its own; now it disappears in a wave of light, the pinkish glow warm and familiar. It feels like joking laughter and campfires and cinnamon mixed with cloves; like silver against red. It feels like home.

"I'll be more careful." She assures, quietly.

Mama sighs, subdued. Then she nods.

The hug is quick and tight, the kiss quicker.

Sota stumbles sluggishly down the stairs a moment later, blinking blearily at his mother. She turns away from the closed door with a thoughtful look in her face, pausing at the sight of her disheveled son.

Laughter breaks through the air like the ringing of many bells, the teasing and its answering whine like music to the listening ear.

On the steps leading down from her family shrine, Kagome hums a childhood tune, smiling.

* * *

Her smile drops three blocks from campus, the unmistakable tang of yoki in the air.

Kagome steps tentatively off the bus, reeling in her reiryoku like a spool of thread. Her experiences with demons in the present time have been nonexistent, a fact she has Sesshomaru to thank for. His tightly controlled power was a thing of beauty, all precision and excellence. He had expected the same from her, scathingly calling her untrained state a 'disgraceful waste' and her teachers 'foolish incompetents'. His best insults were reserved solely for her inadequacies, egging her on, pushing her to tears. When the training became too much, he would make her sit for hours in meditation, strapped to Ah-Un's back as they walked to kami-knows-where. That year had been the hardest year of her life, hellish even, but well worth it. She'd always been able to stand beside the two inu brothers in sheer power, but now she had some of the skill to prove it.

So she pulled her spiritual energy deep into her body, compressing it into a tiny ball. It created an uncomfortable tightness in her chest, right beneath her heart, but it wasn't anything she hadn't felt before. The rest of the walk to school was cautious; slow. She could feel something on the edge of her senses; close enough to burn and wild enough to start forest fires. It was a powerful, _painful_ sensation after months of dull emptiness, the energy like a vibrant splash of color against a monotonous grey background.

Maybe that's why she was so unnerved when she saw the baby clinging to Tatsumi Oga's back, why she flinches when it turns to her, and why she ran when its tiny hands reached, arms straining to be held.

She didn't know why there was a daiyokai pup wandering naked and in the care of a human of questionable conscience. Oga was on **THE LIST**. Come hell or high water, she would damn well stay away.

Kagome sighed, stepping into yet another unoccupied, graffiti-stained classroom.

And the morning had been going so well, too.

* * *

Super Senior. That's what they called people like her. An encouraging term turned derogative. It was supposed to mean a second chance. But for most, it meant failure and shame. Someone who couldn't cut it, who slacked off or skipped school.

It means her.

It meant twice the work, for half the amount of time.

She was technically a third year, seventeen going on eighteen, but because of her, shall we say, _absence_ , she was placed a year lower. Cram classes where taken in the hopes that she could test out and bring the time spent in this high school down to only one year. Working on her studies over the summer helped her get her feet, and then there was the reading she'd done while in the Feudal Era. It was another thing Sesshomaru insisted on. If she was going to be educated, then she was going to be _well_ _educated_. The dog wouldn't take no for an answer either, exhausted or not. And despite everything, it helped.

With the coping.

With adjusting to the shambles of her twenty-first century life.

It was hard to learn in an environment like the one she was exposed to on a daily basis, hard to find teachers willing to help her. She was lucky her cram school instructors liked her enough to tutor her on the side.

Which is why all this mayhem was entirely unnecessary.

The next three weeks see Kagome skulking through the halls, avoiding everyone on **THE LIST** (which seems to be getting longer in the ensuing insanity), and keeping her spiritual energy under tight wraps through all the commotion. With all the gangs up in arms over the usurper, Oga, and his friends, things have been pretty tense, especially for those who try to stay uninvolved. She supposes she is lucky for the distraction; Himekawa has yet to get back at her for her little stunt, and with the way things are going, she only hopes he forgets entirely.

Aoi seems to have disappeared only to be replaced by a lovesick school girl, and Kagome feels like she is developing a permeate tick on her forehead from all the unstable bouts of demonic energy spiking the air.

Never before has she wanted to beat someone as badly as she used to beat Inuyasha, but this freshman was pushing it. What _really_ gets her, though? Oga doesn't even know what he is doing: upsetting the delicate balance of power in Ishiyama like it's nothing; giving the Tohoshinki a beat down. The boy is like a hurricane, without direction or thought; leaving only destruction in his wake.

Perhaps that is why the baby loves him so.

Her one solace in all this mess is Tōjō. Their quiet study sessions at the bus stop are a reprieve from all the stress, his easy going, laidback attitude a breath of fresh air. He never talks about fighting like the other boys do, not to her. It's sweet. And frustrating. But mostly sweet. They have an unspoken agreement to ignore each other on school grounds. It's easier that way, for the both of them. It helps that she makes herself scarce, but she doesn't want to find out what would happen if people knew. After all, 'studying' isn't exactly a normal pastime for the students of Ishiyama. But mostly…Kagome just wants to finish the semester. Hopefully her scores have pulled up far enough come midterms that she can test out of the junior classes and move on to the senior ones.

"No, see, it's like a gang war, with both sides of the equation being two different factions. This is the Reds and that's the Blues. They can't fight until they've got the same amount of guys, so you've gotta make them equal on both sides. The Reds steal some of the Blues and then the Blues-"

Kagome rambled on; school dress swinging as she acted out the imaginary battle. Tōjō, watched, head tilted, lips twitching. Her animated movements almost hit him once or twice, but somehow manage to avoid him all the same. She moved like a dancer, all grace and flexibility. It was slightly distracting.

"-and that's how you solve the problem!" She finishes with a flourish and bow, puffing with exertion from her actions. She plops on the bench next to him, blowing loose bangs from her face.

"…thanks." He says finally, unable to keep the amusement from his voice. She pouts, huffing as she looks away, and Tōjō's gaze keeps falling to her lips. They are rather nice, especially when she nibbles on them like she is doing now.

"…you work tomorrow, right?"

He shifts at the change of topic, joints popping as he grabs some loose papers before they can blow away in the late summer breeze. It's ridiculously hot out and sweat keeps slipping down his back. Tomorrow he'll wear shorts and a loose button down with his favorite pair of sandals. Maybe he'll stop by the beach after work. He glances over at the girl at the opposite side of the bench. Her skin is flushed from the heat, but she's wilting, slumped ever so slightly against the backrest. It's too uncomfortable outside. Soon they will have to move to a different location or stop meeting all together. Tōjō frowns at the thought, answering.

"Yeah. Why?"

She's staring off into the distance, looking at something he can't see. Her lip biting is making his throat dry, so when she speaks, voice hard and serious and devoid of its usual laughter, it's like being dumped in ice.

"Something's coming. It's gonna happen any day now." She looks at him then with old eyes, eyes that have seen too much. He straightens, gaze narrowing. Then she grins a crooked grin. The abrupt change is slightly dizzying.

"I know. I'm weird, right?" She rolls her those same eyes, laughing softly, the sound almost bitter. He shifts again, awkwardly, though his attention stays fixed on her form. The girl is biting her lip once more, clutching a notebook to her chest.

"Just…" She pauses, uncertain, "be safe, ok?" Then a teasing grin shoots towards him. "I need someone to do my homework for me."

He shakes his head, mouth quirked. "You worry too much." The bus arrives as he gets up, swinging his duffle over a shoulder and running a hand through his hair to fix some wayward spikes. They fall back into place and he sighs in annoyance. Tōjō looks down at her with a raised brow. "See you day after?"

A nod and smile is his answer, a thin hand waving. "Bye, you."

Tōjō waves back as he stalks away, hunching and flipping his jacket over a shoulder to ward off the heat.

Kagome lingers for a moment, gathering her books to the bus's rattle and hiss. "Yeah." She whispers to herself, eyes following his broad back, "I worry."


	4. Chapter 4

**No Beta**

* * *

The building shook, bits of plaster and dust drifting down onto Kagome's hair. Something was happening on the roof, demonic energy swishing and biting like a live thing. It took everything in her to stay still in her seat; the teacher continuing his lesson without pause, though his voice wavered at an especially loud _crack_. Kagome kept her breaths deep and long, fingers a white knuckled grip on her desk. If someone were to brush the bangs from her downturned face, they would find her wide-eyed; pupils dilated as she stared, unseeing.

She could _feel_ it.

Every push and pull, every stab or punch. The mad rush of power slammed against her senses, like adrenaline through her blood, electric impulses firing in her brain. This time period wasn't like the Feudal Era, where encounters like this were the norm. Kagome had not experienced this in a long while. It was euphoric, like drowning yourself in a cool spring after days in a hot, waterless desert.

She wanted _so badly_ to go up there and join the fray, just for the chance to kick ass like she used to. And it would be so _easy_.

That thought alone stopped her.

She wasn't to interfere. No matter how glorious it would be to stretch her metaphorical muscles, Kagome could _not afford_ to get into trouble. The semester was barely half way through- her scores were the best they'd ever been- if she gave in now… the _consequences_ …

Kagome shuddered.

Slowly, she forced herself to release the desk, straitening her back and folding her hands into the dip of her lap. Around her, her normally lackluster classmates shifted restlessly, some grinning, some staring at the ceiling with looks of concentration rarely seen. In the far back corner, a betting pool had started.

"Fifty on Oga."

"What?! Why'd you bet against Aoi? That's crazy, man!"

"Yeah! You wanna die?!"

"What? They can't hear us. Besides, didn't he already take out Himekawa and Kanzaki?"

"Show some respect, dumb ass! They can still skin you alive any day!"

"Suck up."

"Bastard."

"Shut up! I can't hear!"

Kagome watched the clock tick, its steady drone like one of Kikyo's many soul collectors. Ten minutes until class got out.

From the corner of her eye she saw some punks leaving, blatantly walking from the room. The teacher didn't turn at the sound of the screen sliding back, ignoring everything save his uninspired monologue about some ancient land war back in the fourteenth century. She tried not to begrudge him his silence, since it was, after all, a good survival strategy all things considered. "Turn a blind eye at Ishiyama High", or so the infamous saying went. Still, she knew if she got up like the others she'd be seen and penalized. Oh the joys of being a good student at a school for delinquents. Double the expectations, double the consequences.

Blue eyes blinked. Five minutes till school's out.

The spike of purity was so unexpected, the former miko jerked, pencil flying out of her hand like it had a mind of its own. She hadn't realized it was laced with her own power until it hit the back of a bulky goon across the room, the nasty shock of it startling an undignified yelp from her unfortunate victim. She ignored the way he howled, black uniform steaming, and clamped down _hard_ on her fluctuating spiritual energy. The school girl glanced up in annoyance when the building shook again, sour faced as she brushed back some more dust.

She knew that reiryoku, extended exposure to it had made sure of that. Aoi was pissed. No. She was _livid_. Whatever had happened, it was _bad_.

Two energy signatures coiled, one darkly gleeful, the other filled with the vengeance of a woman wronged. They rose like twining snakes, higher and higher, the pressure building-

Sweat broke out on the back of girls' neck, the moisture dampening her dark hair. She glared, feeling an unanticipated urge to slap something-

The closing bell rang, high and shrill-

-then it stopped.

Everything went still and Kagome choked on the air in her throat.

Then with two lightly-layered flashes of demonic energy, (barely enough to harm anything), two figures rushed passed the classroom window. Kagome relaxed, gathering her things quietly in the mad dash that followed, her heathen classmates screaming in despair.

The former Guardian of the Shikon no Tama simply strolled across the room and bent to retrieve her writing utensil, unconcerned that two people had just been tossed from the roof of her five-story school building.

* * *

"There's a baby on your back."

That was the first thing from her lips when she reached their designated bench, incredulous stare fixed on an all too familiar green head.

The boy- _man_ \- had the _gall_ to shrug. "Yeah."

Kagome frowned, lips pursing. She really didn't think he understood the gravity of the situation. Thin hands fell instinctively to well-rounded hips, the cocking motion strangely practiced. Had Tōjō bothered to look up from the admirable view of her legs, the smooth skin peeking out from beneath her swirling blue summer dress, he might have had the decency to wince.

Maybe.

" _Why_ is there a baby on your back?" Kagome's tone was just a shade shy of sharp. She didn't question how it was holding on; demon children were weird like that.

Tōjō sat nonchalantly on the bench, long limbs stretched. He pulled the infant from his shoulder and placed him gently in his lap. There was _that_ at least. "Found him."

A strangled pause.

"Wait- isn't that Oga's kid?" She stuttered. Her head shook like a wet dog, casual attire swaying with the movement. Tōjō slowed thoughtfully, watching the way the heat shimmered, mirage-like, from the asphalt. He swallowed the leftovers he'd shoved between his teeth before coming to this impromptu study session, nodding vaguely in answer. Who schedules a test for a Monday morning anyway? He was lucky Friday was his half day for work this week; otherwise this wouldn't have panned out. He had tomorrow off too, but Kagome had mentioned that she lived pretty far away, so unless he went over to her place, which he couldn't see happening (her parents probably wouldn't let him through door), he probably would have failed the damn test anyway.

He _hn'ed_ in response to her muttering, tugging his duffle closer, then squinted up at the sky. It was getting dark. Maybe they should go to the library? He glanced down at the child in his lap. A bit of drool fell as it gnawed on a pudgy fist. _Nah_.

"Where are his clothes?" Kagome did _not_ shriek. She would be _composed_. After all, she should be used to seeing that naked butt by now. Except, you know, for the fact that she actively avoided the diaper-less child with the fervor of Miroku declaring his eternal love for everything with breasts.

Her companion shrugged. _Again_. Egh. _Men_.

She huffed, removing her backpack and dropping it with a loud _thud_ onto the poor, unassuming bench, which groaned accordingly. Warm, untrained energy brushed against her, but something felt… _wrong_. Resigned, her arms lifted, though her voice was firm. "Let me see him."

Tōjō started, head whipping up from where he'd been ruffling in his duffle. "Can't." He began, "He only goes to-"

But Kagome had already swooped in, the babe listlessly reaching for her.

"-strong people." Tōjōs' throat closed, narrow eyes widening at the telling lack of an electric shock, his voice trailing off. For her part, Kagome cradled the baby with the ease of long practice and, suddenly, something in Tōjōs' head clicked into place.

Kagome paid him no mind, oblivious to the textbook sipping slightly in his grasp, their purpose for being here, forgotten. The rugged teen watched keenly as his study partner cooed soft words, tracing the back of her fingers over the green-haired toddler's forehead, and peering carefully into his dull eyes. Unease and, dare he think it, _doubt_ , flooded him when her frown deepened, the appearing worry lines unsuited to her youthful face.

She bit her lip and this time, Tōjō really did wince. "He's got a fever." Her customary braid slipped from a sleeveless shoulder, interwoven bangs bobbing as she balanced the child more carefully against her. Her nose wrinkled, voice tight as she traced the dark smudges beneath the child's eyes. "When was the last time he slept?"

Tōjō swallowed, fighting the urge to look away. His trademark scowl deepened in response. "A little last night."

It felt strangely like an interrogation, this little questionnaire. Off put by his recent suspicions, Tōjō found that he didn't like it.

Not. One. _Bit_.

The school girl rocked on the balls of her sandaled feet, painted toes shifting with the redistribution of weight. She tisked, tongue clicking impatiently. "Did you give him anything? Medicine? Milk?"

Thick hands fisted, curling with tension spawned by her accusing stare. As if this was _his_ fault. A dash of dark, foreign anger sparked through his sore form; work, coupled with the sleepless night before causing frustration to seep into his normally relaxed posture. Contempt spat from his mouth like he were spitting blood from his teeth and the low growl left him before he could stop it. "Where the _hell_ would I get _milk_?"

Kagome stiffened, eyes flashing to meet his as she snarled. Something crackled in the air. " _The_ _store_."

A faint whine broke from between them and they both looked down at the small, naked child wedged in the space separating their bodies, each shocked to realize that he had risen from the bench to go toe to toe with her, their heated faces centimeters apart.

He stepped back, mildly confused. The concession didn't register as such, though his blood still fixed for a fight. Instead, he watched with hooded eyes as she hushed the whimpering baby he'd picked off the street like a sickly, helpless stray.

Silence reigned as the odd tension died down. Tōjō stuffed his hands into the pockets of his torn work jeans, ignoring the way his rolled pants rubbed against his thighs. Goose bumps traveled up his exposed arms, the cool onset of evening making his sandaled attire seem ridiculous. The tattoo on his right arm burned, as it sometimes did, and he rotated his shoulder to ease the ache. Stretched skin and a bad tat job; still acting up after so many years.

After a moment, he broke the silence. "You're pretty good at that." He said, nodding towards the baby. But something in his tone was off, leading, almost. His attention was fixed on her face, looking for…something. She didn't notice.

Kagome snorted, harsh expression melting into something tender, her smile: beautiful. Tōjōs' breath hitched, and it wasn't just from what she let slip next.

"I should be." She commented absently, face once again downturned and rocking the settled tot with a hum. "Had one just like hi-"

The girl froze.

She didn't look at him. Actually, it didn't seem like she could. Her face paled, her lips thinned and her deep blue eyes stared into nothing.

There was a flash of some horrible kind of sorrow-

Tōjō, for all his stone-faced prowess, had never seen an expression close so fast. Next thing he knew, the infant was being shoved at him, arms automatically grappling for a hold. She'd grabbed her bag before he could properly react, ready to take off into the evening, never mind the growing darkness.

"I should go." Flat, just like her features.

Oh, but he couldn't have that. A hand struck out with the speed of one of his best punches, large palm catching on her upper arm as she turned to leave. He ignored the resulting flinch, the taunt ripple of muscle beneath his fingertips as he adjusted his hold to compensate for the child's sudden squirming. Jaw clenched, he let the blunt words fall without mercy, the inkling that had lingered in his mind long before this cool Friday night.

"Is that why you go to Ishiyama? Because of your baby?"

She swallowed, leaning away, impassive gaze fixed on some point down the street. But she didn't deny it.

Tōjōs' thumb rubbed the soft skin above her elbow as his grip loosened. He didn't think she would notice. His voice lowed to a husky murmur, face relaxing. "What happened?"

The choked, smothered sound that emerged from the girls' small form couldn't be words. He understood anyway. "Gone. He's gone."

He released her, but she didn't cry. Her eyes shimmered as she blinked rapidly, the violent shiver that traveled the length of her body a good enough excuse for her to hug herself tightly.

Tōjō didn't say anything. What more was there to say?

Kagome dashed at her eyes with the back of her right hand, frustrated. Her torso expanded as she took great, sharp breaths, the strap from her bag digging into her flesh without mercy. Her left-hand fingers clutched at the material of her dress. She was biting her lip again, hard enough to peel skin and draw blood.

Tōjō watched, distinctly uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his red hair and down his face, suddenly tired. There would be no studying today. The baby fidgeted, tiny fingers fisting in his white wife beater.

A sigh left him before he nodded to himself. He would make sure she got home safe. It was the least he could do, since he'd… _yeah_. Fucking _asshole_.

Something fell to the ground with a loud _thump_ and when the third-year looked up again, Kagome was riffling through her backpack with her usual air of determination. She spoke firmly, the resolution marred only by a faint quiver in her voice.

"Come on." She pulled a scarf from the depths of her massive bag like magic, tugging it loose with a grunt. Why she had something like that stashed away, when the summer heat blistered to new, soaring heights during peak hours, was entirely beyond him. In fact, much of what Kagome did was beyond him.

She huffed. The baby let out a hiccupping gurgle. Then she looked up and fixed Tōjō with a no-nonsense stare, never mind that her eyes still looked red and puffy. "Let's get him something to eat. Then we'll go to your place."

He frowned, head tilting. She was doing something with the scarf, though it was more of a sash than a scarf, the shimmering fabric white and silk-like. Her hands moved quickly and soon it was wrapped around her like it was meant to be there, as if some missing piece had been replaced. The ends tied in a knot between her shoulder blades, three small, red pentagons inlayed with flowers edging the loose, trailing fabric.

Before he could blink, the baby was once again plucked from his hands. He watched, mouth dry, as she tucked the toddler against her breasts, secure and safe within the sling.

Strangely, Tōjō felt something in his navel tug. He swallowed.

And then he realized what she'd said.

" _What?_ "

* * *

 **AN: So…question for ya'lls. How am I doing on** **Tōjō** **s character? I don't know if I'm getting it quite right and I fear I may be making him too…** _ **mushy**_ **(at least within the safety of his own mind). Other than that, what did you think of this one? Ta!**

 **~Delgodess**

 **P.S.- Just FYI: I've made some adjustments to the first three chapters so that the timeline is more accurate. Some of the settings have changed as well. Not a lot, but enough that there may be some confusion if you read chapter four alone. Reread if you like.**


	5. Chapter 5

**No Beta**

* * *

Tōjō stared uncomprehendingly at the shelf in front of him. He shifted, angling his head and twisting his long torso. It didn't change anything. He crouched. Nothing. What was he looking for again?

A few aisles over, Kagome hummed some kind of tilting nursery rhyme, comfortably flitting through the merchandise of this small corner store. The old lady at the register contented herself with scratching out lottery tickets, sucking loudly on her gums. If he wanted, he could see the entirety of the place; he'd just have to stand, his height towering at least a head over the shelves lining the grubby, ill-lit space of the tiny shop. But Kagome had asked him to find something and, craving a normalcy that was fast abandoning his evening, he jumped to task.

 _Fucking_ _whipped_. He would deny it to his dying day.

But could you blame him? He'd never been so off center.

 _"Let's get him something to eat. Then we'll go to your place."_

 _"-we'll go to your place."_

 _"-your place."_

 _God_. The woman couldn't be _that_ oblivious, just inviting herself over like that. But, knowing Kagome, she probably _was_. He'd just fucked up, _majorly_ , and she just bounced back like a rubber ball. Then there was the kid though, and his fever. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, Tōjō _really_ didn't know anything about kids, let alone babies. But, if the restlessness of last night was anything to go by, he'd need all the help he could get.

Tōjō forced himself to refocus as he wandered into a new row, eyes catching on the words in front of him.

 ** _Silky Smooth Fit,_ Feel _the Difference_**.

… _What?_

A better look around had heat traveling up his neck towards his ears. He averted his gaze, but the images had been waiting for weakness.

 _Soft thighs peeking from beneath a windblown skirt._

 _A bead of sweat slipping slowly down sun-warmed skin, down,_ down _, to a_ _n unbuttoned collar._

 _Teeth tugging at a bottom lip, nibbling like-_

Tōjō felt liquid trickle over his mouth and a quick wipe turned his wrist red. Stone faced and unblinking, he reached down to readjust the bags hanging limply in his arms, hauling the blue backpack he'd offered to carry over his shoulder like a sack of cats, ridiculously heavy and equally uncomfortable, before tucking his duffle more securely under an arm and shoving his hand into a pants pocket to keep it from moving.

Then he _prowled_ from the aisle, scowl fixed firmly in place.

He found her looking at a package of diapers, being careful not to jostle the sleeping baby as she compared sizes.

She glanced up at him, shooting him a quick smile. Then the girl frowned, placing one of the packages into the half-filled basket on her hip.

"Couldn't find it?"

Tōjō shook his head, half shrugging. He did _not_ rub his nose in embarrassment. And his ears were _not_ tinged red.

A sigh. "Come on. I thought I saw formula this way."

She was right, of course, and before all of ten minutes had passed the teens found themselves at the checkout, the old woman watching them with an odd twinkle in her eye and a toothless grin, prattling away to Kagome without a care. Kagome handled it with grace, her smile: genuine.

"Such a lovely couple!"

"Oh, we're not-"

"Posh! In my day, people didn't waste any time on ceremony! That came _later_."

Tōjō wondered what time period she was talking about. Tradition wouldn't have stood for such scandal, and would have only been met with shame and strict disapproval. This woman must have been a rebel. His opinion of the old hag rose a miniscule amount _._

"You wanna pay? Or me?" The girl clicked her tongue softly, pulling her backpack from him and beginning to stuff their purchases into it. It bulged, but there was no use buying new shopping bags for this one trip. He unzipped his own duffle and copied her, then fished out his wallet from his jeans.

"I'll do it." He answered with a jutted chin. He'd have to pick up another shift at work though.

"Alright." His study partner huffed, straining to close the blue-black zipper. Tōjō took it silently from her hands and forced it shut, swinging it into place on his back with little effort. Kagome opened her mouth to protest, of course, but a single raised eyebrow and a glance at the child cuddling comfortably to her chest blew the fight out of her argument. Instead, the dark-haired girl pulled out her cell phone, gesturing resignedly towards the door with one slim hand.

"Is it ok if I make a quick call?" Her head tilted, blue eyes questioning as some loose strands of hair fell into her upturned face. "I'll help afterwards."

Tōjō's broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Its fine."

Then he watched her leave though the glass door, eyes catching on the fabric swaying over her hips with each step. His scowl softened as he deftly pulled out some bills from the confines of his leather wallet.

When he looked up, the old woman's grin had lengthened to a Cheshire.

"She's a keeper!" The old woman said conspiratorially, winking. Tōjō winced, bowing slightly, because what the hell was he supposed to day to _that_?

As quickly as he could, he grabbed his change, grabbed his duffle, and made a break for the door, long legs carrying him over the distance with ease.

A little bell jingled as he stepped outside into the cool evening air, breathing in the faint hint of pollution the slight wind had yet to blow away. His head turned to follow Kagome's voice as she spoke, the light of a street lamp highlighting her as she bounced on the balls of her feet, one hand supporting a tiny head, the other pressing a phone to the side of her face.

She was smiling.

"-yes Mama. Just for the night. Yes, I'll call you. 'k, love you. Bye."

The school girl swiped a thumb absently across her phone, then tucked it away, arms coming up to cradle the baby as he let out a languid gurgle.

"So," she announced softly, flicking some hair out of her eyes again and gesturing with her head as Tōjō approached, "lead the way."

He swallowed.

* * *

Kagome rocked the baby against her, rubbing his back and leaning her face against his head. His green hair pricked at her cheeks, the once perky strands damp with sweat. She hummed, imbuing just the tiniest bit of reiryoku into her every action. She hoped it comforted him and lowered his fever, but she wasn't taking chances. If it got any higher, she was going to the hospital, demon or no.

The sound of a door opening echoed across the small length of the apartment, a wave of steam puffing in a nebulous cloud as Tōjō exited from his recent shower, struggling to pull a black wife beater over his wet skin.

 _Nice abs_. She mused absently, shushing the baby when he let out a pitiful whine. But she was used to beauty, unnatural or otherwise, and so wasn't particularly fazed.

Her friend shifted awkwardly as he hung up the white towel he'd been using to pat water from his hair and Kagome stifled a wince, because, now that she was _really_ thinking about it, this whole situation _was_ a bit awkward.

He was her study partner, yes, but what were a few weeks of knowing one another? In fact…

Kagome swallowed.

…he was the top dog in a school catering directly to _delinquents_. Somehow, Kagome had forgotten this. She wasn't intimidated by it, her experiences made that a bit difficult to do, but it seems she was still in the habit of inviting danger into her parlor. Or, in this case, inviting _herself_ in.

Kagome wanted to face-palm.

Then she looked down at the sickly pup clinging to her and promptly shrugged her worries away. Inuyasha called her stupid. Sesshomaru called her naive. Miroku and Sango simply shook their heads in exasperation.

Kaede often called her kind.

Whatever it was, Kagome _couldn't_ turn away. Not when the little face nuzzling so close to her own reminded her of a bright-eyed fox kit separated from her by something as mundane and disparaging as a broken well and five hundred years of history.

She glanced up at the redhead across from her, observing him from beneath her lashes.

No. _Awkwardness_ , she could handle.

She'd insisted on the shower, of course, because the man had had a long day at work before their failed study session, and she'd be damned if he was made uncomfortable in his own home. Their "sleep over" probably wasn't going to involve much sleep anyway.

Not with the little tike as he was.

Though…boy'd been a _bit_ longer than she thought he would be, but if Tōjō had to take some extra time to keep up his bad-boy image, who was she to judge? A giggle escaped her despite herself, the idea of the hardcore punk primping in front of the mirror more than a little absurd.

"What?" Tōjō asked, scowling as he ran a hand though his wet hair. The red strands were still dripping, enough so that they didn't spike back up, but if Kagome was being honest, the slicked back look didn't fit. He was glancing around, shifting uneasily in his long, grey pajama pants, no doubt self-conscious about the state of his apartment. Kagome couldn't care less about the place though. It was messy, yes, and cluttered, but nowhere _near_ dirty.

The miko sighed, mouth quirked. "Nothing."

Kagome shifted the baby's weight as she stood from the old, beaten (if ridiculously comfortable) couch she'd been sitting on, the piece of furniture one of few within the single-room apartment. With the couch, a small kitchen table surrounded by three chairs and a kitchenette to one side, the place was a typical cheap living space, perfect for one. It had a closet in the far corner and a small attached bathroom. All in all, it wasn't too bad. Not a hut with dirt floors, anyway.

"Wanna trade?" She asked nervously, gesturing to the restroom with tilt of her chin.

Tōjō nodded, and with a gentleness that still surprised her, took the baby from her arms and sat back on the couch. Stretching brought out an audible pop and a sigh, and soon Kagome had moved to the entryway to remove her sandals, something she hadn't had a chance to do when she'd first arrived. Then, barefoot, she trod over to her bag.

"Let's give him some Tylenol before I go in. I'll make a bottle too. He's probably hungry."

Tōjō _hummed_ and leaned further into the beige cushions, large hands cupping the baby tentatively. Going to the sink and running it on hot until the water warmed to an acceptable temperature, Kagome started prepping a new bottle and the medicine she'd pulled from her bag.

"Support his head and upper body. It looks like he can hold it by himself already, but he is tired, and it will make him feel more secure." She instructed, struggling to fill the strange silence that had come over them.

Tōjō _hummed_ again, and when Kagome turned around, his half lidded eyes peered drowsily over the top of a green haired head, the small form of his charge lifting in time with each breath.

Something in her jolted at the sight, freezing her in place for a moment, until she could compose herself. Swallowing back a strangled coo, Kagome stepped forward, angling the child's head to accept the medicine. He took it without complaint and the miko made a satisfied sound as she handed the bottle over.

Her brows furrowed, and predicatively, she began biting her bottom lip. "Try to get him to eat. It's not normal for a baby his age to be so quiet, but he is sick, so that would explain it." Her hands wrung in worry, nose scrunching. "Do you have any rags we could use as cold compresses?"

"Bathroom." The boy rumbled, coaxing the bottle into the baby's mouth.

She nodded and hurried to fish them out, bumping her head under the sink in her sometimes typical, clumsy manner. _Ha_ , she exclaimed softly when she found them, moving the faded white face cloths under the bathroom tap before swiftly making her way to the slumped figures on the couch.

"Here." She said gently, placing the now damp towels on the child's hot skin, "We'll change them as they warm."

For a moment, she stood over them, contemplating, biting her lip and being all together too distracting for a certain Tohoshinki's liking.

"What?" He croaked dryly, tisking when the baby wiggled away from the prodding bottle.

The girl blinked.

Then a flush spread without her control.

Kagome quite suddenly found herself ducking for her backpack and near sprinted to the bathroom, her wrinkled sky-colored summer dress fluttering the whole way.

"I'll be out soon." She squeaked, ratted braid slipping quickly though the small opening behind her as the door clicked closed.

There was no answer, but she hadn't expected it. Tōjō really wasn't one to talk much.

* * *

The night progressed as much as he'd expected, with awkwardness on his part and obliviousness on Kagome's. He wanted her. He could admit that freely to himself now, if only because of the pressing _personal issue_ he'd had to deal with as soon as he closed the bathroom door. It made him feel slightly dirty and a hell of a lot confused. He was not a prude. And he was pretty sure Kagome wasn't one either, though what gave him that idea, he hadn't a clue.

Sure, he liked sex. It felt good and way better than his hand. But something about the thought of _sex_ and _Kagome_ had this… _finality_ that he couldn't quite name. It wouldn't be casual.

She was too good for that.

He just didn't know _why_. It just _was_. Blood was red. He liked fighting. Kagome was different.

 _Fact_.

Damn. Now his head hurt. And the little space heater on his chest was starting to burn him up.

* * *

Her bag was stuffed with all sorts of useful (and not so useful) things, a habit she picked up from two years of endless hiking. Usually, it was annoying to have to sort through everything to get what she wanted. Now though? She was just grateful she'd packed a clean pair of gym shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Can you imagine if she'd had to ask Tōjō for something to wear?

 _"Hey out there! I made a split second decision to crash at your place to take care of the sick demon puppy you've randomly picked off the street. Oh, and I'm naked. You think you could help me out?"_

Pifft. _No_.

* * *

A rising spike of energy startled both of them, though only one of them knew what it was. Flying out of the bathroom with only the t-shirt over her panties, dark wet hair trailing her in an arch, Kagome scooped the child out of a startled Tōjō's arms, cooing and whispering and rocking, even as her spiritual energy worked to diffuse what would have likely resulted in an explosion.

"Did you try to feed him?" She whispered urgently as the child cried out, fat tears welling from dull eyes.

The rumpled looking teen nodded, mumbling as he slowly sat up and shook the startlement from his features. "He wouldn't take it."

Looking for a distraction (because there was _no_ _way_ she was showing the human her powers) Kagome's frantic eyes settled on one of the wet towels hanging on the arm of the couch.

Casually, she reached for the discarded bottle off to other the side and put it to the baby's lips.

"He's burning up." She said, looking down, then back up to make eye contact. "Can you re-wet that? I'll try to feed him."

Then, the _second_ Tōjō's back was turned, the bottle in her hands _glowed_ and the baby, even in his delusional state, knew power and latched on.

* * *

Tōjō felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end, but when he whirled around, ready for a fight, nothing was there.

Just a troubled Kagome and a smug looking brat sucking on a plastic nipple like his life depended on it. The kid was still naked, still pressed up against a well proportioned chest and, for just an instant, seemed to come out of his muzzy haze just enough to peg him with the sort of gloating self-satisfied stare that only someone extremely pleased with himself could portray.

It was gone the next second, but _damn_ , that couldn't be anything less than a taunt.

Tōjō's eyes narrowed as he turned away.

He would _never_ admit to being jealous of a _brat_.

* * *

The next few hours were difficult for both of them, but the rest of the night passed relatively quietly after the baby's fever broke. The green-haired munchkin wasn't out of the woods yet, but with the help of modern medicine and a dash of the Shikon no Tama miko's purifying healing energy, the child was well on his way to recovery.

It is with these recollections that a tired Kagome trudged slowly up the stairs to her family shrine, contemplating the list she'd left for Tōjō to follow until she could see the two again sometime during the next week. She told him to call with any updates and not to hesitate if he needed help. The groggy, mussed state he'd been in as he walked her to the door had been adorable, the sullen slouch after sleeping all night on the couch coupled with his ridiculous bed-head, enough to send her into a fit of giggles. She'd resisted, barely, and after one last check on the baby curled up in a nest of blankets on the futon in the corner, Kagome stumbled down the stairs and to the nearest metro station. One train and two short bus stops later see the tired student cresting the hill to her house, griping the strap of her backpack like a lifeline and fighting the dark strands that had come loose from her hasty braid and insisted on annoying her by falling into her eyes.

She opened the front door with a grumble, tugging off her sandals without care as she slouched in the direction of the heavenly scent of jasmine tea.

"Mama! I'm home!" The miko calls out, a half yawn escaping as she turns the corner leading to the kitchen.

Only to stop dead in the door way, unconsciously gripping its edge for support as her legs nearly buckle. Her blue eyes widen, her mouth parts, and the very air stills.

She can't breathe.

There, sitting calmly over a steaming morning cup of tea, directly across the table from her mother, is the silver haired head of a man with golden eyes.

Its Sesshomaru.

In a business suit.


	6. Chapter 6

Wood creaked as Kagome settled on the engawa of her home, exhausted in all the ways that counted. She felt trapped between shock and acceptance, a resigned kind of expectation clouding her thoughts. She'd known, theoretically, that the Shrine had Patrons. But they had always been distant; rich benefactors that donated to a Conservational Fund specifically geared to preserve the historical site that was her childhood home. It had been enough to keep the place running and clean, if a bit run down. That it shouldn't have ever gotten to the state that it was currently in hadn't even occurred to her, but if Sesshomaru's subtle exasperation was anything to go by, her mother was as stubborn as a mule and very much opposed to accepting charity, even while in the midst of providing for her errant time-traveling daughter. That Sesshomaru, Lord of the West, was said rich benefactor, and had been for generations; well… it just goes to show how long they had been planning for this; for _her_.

But to find out that Sango was her many times removed great grandmother-

That she, along with Miroku, had founded the Shrine-

That they had taken on _her_ name, founding the Higurashi Family Line as she knows it and caring for the Sacred Tree and it's adjoining Well for near five hundred years, an obligation and privilege that was a point of pride for all their descendants'-

That they had _waited_ for her to be born-

-it frightened her. And then to learn that it was her influence -her off handed comments about the future, her textbooks on science- which had convinced Sesshomaru to gather the Four Lords together to create a portal to a sub-dimension known as the Demon World, resulting in a mass exodus some two hundred years ago as the Human World slowly drained of magic with the rise of technology... So much had been at stake.

It bothered her that such expectation had been placed on her unknowing shoulders, but then, it had always been meant to be, hadn't it? Time was funny like that.

Kagome exhaled slowly, leaning back on the palm of her hands with her head thrown back, fingers curling over the worn wooden edge of the porch. The midmorning sun fell on her closed eyelids, a faint burst of air sending the loose wisps of her frizzy, unkempt hair onto her tired face. Then with a sigh, she spoke.

"You knew. You _always_ knew."

The figure standing beside her replied just as softly. "Yes."

Half-lidded eyes opened to stare at the Daiyokai has he leaned against a wooden beam, suit jacket discarded, long sleeves of his dress shirt folded up to expose the firm, pale lines of his forearms. Her gaze lingered on the curved purple markings found there, silent, contemplative.

Then: "Why?"

 _Why me? Why all this? Why couldn't I go back? Why didn't you tell me? Why did you leave me_ **alone** _?_

A sigh, quiet though it was. "You needed to find yourself."

Kagome sits up, angling her body and tilting her head just as she had in their training sessions.

Unsurprisingly, the silver-haired man picks up on the cue, smooth tenor humming softly. "Had I helped you immediately after your… _return_ , you would have attached yourself. It would not have been healthy."

She swallows, locking her eyes with his. "So you let me suffer?"

Sesshomaru meets her gaze. "Yes."

Kagome is the first to look away, hands limp in her lap, legs lifeless as they hang over the edge of the wooden deck. She bites her lip, eyes glistening.

"Kagome."

Her head snaps up at the sharpness of his tone, a trained reaction. Her attention, tensed body and all, is completely for him.

The gold of his eyes is vibrant, the intensity of his gaze, heavy.

"You are Pack."

Kagome closes her eyes, sagging. And if a tear stains her cheek? Her relieved bow hides it.

"Yes, Sensei."

A hand ruffles her hair, the affection startling; different. But, she supposed, it _had_ been five hundred years. Her throat feels suspiciously tight, her tone cautiously hopeful.

"And Shippō?" Her question is breathless.

Was that a smile in his voice?

"Alive and well. Now Rest. Tomorrow is a new day."

* * *

One day later, Kagome gets a phone call.

"The school is… _come again?_ "

"It blew up."

"What kind of idiot- no, I don't care. Where are they sending us? They _are_ they sending us somewhere, right?"

"Saint Ishiyama."

"The Academy? _Really?_ Fine. What about the baby? How's his fever?"

"He's better now. His dad came and got him."

" _And you just gave him back?!_ "

"…"

"Tōjō! You _found_ him on the _streets_! How do you know he wasn't _put_ there?!"

"It's fine."

"NO, its _not_! What if-?"

" _Kagome_."

"…yeah?"

"It's _fine_."

"…alright."

 _Sigh_.

"...you're sure, though?"

"Yes."

"…"

"…"

"So… we still gonna meet up? We're going to have to get off at a different bus stop now, and I don't think it'll be as deserted as the last one."

"…the library?"

"The one by our Ishiyama? I don't know. I'm looking at the bus routes right now and it looks like it'll a bit out of the way. Maybe a park? It's pretty hot out though."

"Maybe…"

"We'll figure it out. You work the next few days, right?"

"Yeah."

"That gives us some time to- Oh. NO! _Grandpa! What are you doing?!_ "

"…"

"Sorry, Tōjō, I've got to go. Grandpa got into the wasabi again and- _GRANDPA! Stop putting_ _Ofuda's_ _onto people's eyes! They're guests to the Shrine and they are in NO WAY possessed!_ -Tōjō, I-"

"Later Kagome."

"Ok! Sorry! _STOP THA_ -"

 _Click_.


End file.
